


Life in the Urban Tundra

by Miriam_Heddy



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6503884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miriam_Heddy/pseuds/Miriam_Heddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A light, fluffy Winter story written on a cold Sunday in Springtime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life in the Urban Tundra

"Look deep into the parka!"

"Shut it, Sir, else I'll be moving on."

"Ice flow, nowhere to go." Vince responded, giggling.

Howard gave in and smiled. "Think you've got brain-freeze, Little Man."

"Need warming up." Vince, wearing proper winter boots, got up on his toes awkwardly, using Howard's broad shoulders for balance.

Howard's smile broadened, and there followed an awkward moment that Vince would later refer to as the Eskimo Wars, as Howard leant in for a kiss, only to be stopped by Vince's hood and his own colliding, softly, creating a space in which they were isolated from the rest of the world, face to face, creating a tunnel of warmth in the otherwise frosty air.

Howard reached up and pulled Vince's hood back just a bit, letting in the cold, and then their mouths were pressed together, lips slightly parted. Their hoods remained a problem, as Vince had to pull his own back up when the cold air stung his ears. Howard's nose was red-tipped from the cold and Vince could barely feel his knees, but it was one of the truly great snogs, in Vince's humble opinion, as, midway through it, Howard began laughing as his brain defrosted and he realised how silly they must look.

Then they were both laughing and sniffling, wiping their runny noses on the arms of their parkas (which Vince found truly disgusting but did anyway). And still, they kissed.

Vince had the sudden urge to throw himself to the ground and make snow angels, but Howard's but hands were gripping his parka at his neck, holding him in place.

"Christy, it's cold," Howard whispered.

Vince nodded.

"Inside?"

Vince nodded again. It appeared he was now too old to choose snow angels over the promise of cocoa and snogging in front of the Telly with Howard.

They shuffled through the snow, getting inside, stamping feet and shivering and whinging about winter. Then up the stairs in stockinged feet, Vince nearly slipping, but for Howard's hands helpfully grabbing his bum and keeping him moving.

Naboo, hearing the scuffling, opened his door, peered out, and shook his head at the sight of two grown men stripping down to their thermals whilst snogging and groping.

Naboo shut the door, leaving them to it. Vince was sure he'd have a snarky comment or two for them later.

 

  
As it turnt out, the cocoa and Telly weren't as enticing as the warm bed, and they pulled the duvet over their heads and pawed at each other, not so much undressing as simply shoving fabric out of the way so they could expose skin to skin.

Vince took hold of Howard's prick and Howard let out a yelp, then slapped Vince on the bum, saying, "Brrr."

"Sorry," Vince said, not altogether sorry.

Aside from complaints about cold fingers, it was a fairly straight-forward shag, with the both of them (after warming their hands on less sensitive bits) jacking each other till they'd both finished, messing up their thermals and forcing them to undress and huddle under the duvet cuddling.

Vince did most of the cuddling, as Howard wasn't the cuddling sort. But he stoically let Vince coil around him like a serpent wrapt round a thick tree.

Howard dozed off first, mumbling nonsense in his sleep. Vince thought about snowballs and snow forts and snowmen with snowballs storming snow forts, and, as the night fell, the temperature dropped, and a crust of ice formed on the pavement, sealing in their boot prints, Vince at last fell asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments adored, cherished, fuel for more writing.


End file.
